


How I imagine Buddy's first meeting with the real Sammy would go down

by Hello_Im_not_a_possum



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Bendy and the Ink Machine Novel: Dreams Come to Life, Canon Rewrite, Creepy Sammy Lawrence, DCTL!Sammy was so OOC that I threw up, Fix-It, Gen, It's the canon freshly inked Sammy, So I'm fixing it, headcanons, or at least he's more canon than DCTL's Sammy, technically canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:09:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24814363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Im_not_a_possum/pseuds/Hello_Im_not_a_possum
Summary: DCTL!Sammy was so fucking terrible that not only did I write an entire rant about it on my blog, but I also wrote this: A fic where the Sammy Lawrence we meet in the tapes is combined with the in-game version and he meets our good friend Daniel "Buddy" Lewek.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	How I imagine Buddy's first meeting with the real Sammy would go down

It wasn't even a full week since Buddy got this job as a gofer, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was _off_ about the place. It was a good job sure, miles better than his last one, but it was downright _weird_ at times. Did everybody in Joey Drew Studios have a weirdly morbid sense of humor?

"Buddy, would you please take this to Mr. Lawrence?"

"Oh sure, no problem Ms. Lambert."

Before he could even leave the room, Jacob spoke up.

"Wait, he's only been here for two days and you wanna send him to _Sammy?_ Why don't we send his mother a funeral urn while we're at it!"

" _Jacob!_ "

"Wait, what's wrong with Mr. Lawrence?"

"Nothing really, he's just..." She rolled her hand while looking for the right words to describe the man, which did not fill Buddy with confidence, especially when Jacob interjected.

"Completely insane! He killed at least three musicians for playing off key and made the music department new harps with with their bones and hair!"

"NO! Sammy is..." she rolled her hand around again.

"...Nice when you get to know him?" Buddy finished hopefully.

Both Jacob and Lambert snorted before bursting into laughter as if he had just told the funniest joke in the world.

"Uh, I'll just take this to him then..."

"Don't worry! the infirmary's also on that floor!" Jacob called after him "And don't be afraid, he can smell fear-OW!"

Buddy was filled with dread and unease as he left the art department walked down what seemed like miles to the music department. Yes, walked. While using the elevator would be much faster, he didn't want to meet up with the man early if he could help it, his current mental image of the music director was like Mr. Schwartz but much _much_ worse, how did the phrase Norman used go? 'Ran from the devil and bumped into his dad'?

The entire time, he felt like a lost lamb being eyed down by a hungry wolf.

'Jacob's just trying to scare you, Buddy.' he thought to himself as he drew closer and closer to the dreaded music department. 'Sammy's probably not _that_ bad... He'd be fired if he did that and people found out. Who wouldn't fire a murderer? Or he might not even be in his office right now! maybe you can just set it down on his desk and leave.'

And then he got into the music department itself.

It was not like the art department structure-wise, it was not a large room with a bunch of desks, instead, it was a dimly-lit narrow maze that seemed so empty and lifeless. If he didn't know any better, he'd assume this place was abandoned long ago.

"Where is everybody?" he asked out loud to himself as he walked down the hallway that eventually opened up into a small space with a few doors. Most of them locked, aside from the bathroom which was in a state that suggested that it hasn't been used in a long time.

His imagination wondered what happened to everybody... Maybe Sammy chopped them all up and proudly displayed their skinned-off faces in his office, and maybe he was next.

Going down the next hallway with that pit of dread sinking deeper and deeper into his stomach, the new gofer found himself in what was possibly the darkest hallway in the entire studio. Graduating from 'creeped out' to 'full-on scared' with the knowledge he was lost in a maze that belonged to what his mind saw as a crazed murderer, he turned the corner and heard something.

" _We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when..._ "

Someone was singing?

" _But I know we'll meet again some sunny day_ "

Duh, of course someone was singing, this was the music department.

" _Keep smiling through __Just like you always do, till the blue skies drive the dark clouds away..._ "

He turned the corner and followed the music until the lights grew bright enough for him to see again. Following the sound to it's source led him to a large well-lit room with instruments, chairs, microphones coming down from the ceiling, and only one person.

" _So will you please say "Hello!" to the folks that I know? Tell them I won't be long, (I won't be long...) They'll be happy to know, That as you saw me go, I was singing this song._"

The singer was a very scruffy, short, and stout man wearing a bowler hat and a suit, he had the same aspect of a living teddy bear and was just as threatening. Assuming that this man must be Sammy, Buddy approached him with the paper in hand, internally relieved that he looked and sounded nothing like the mental image he had of him.

" _We'll meet again, Don't know where, don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day_ -ACK!"

The man jumped then relaxed when he saw Buddy, clearly not expecting to see another person in the room or at least didn't hear him enter, but thankfully, he wasn't angry at him.

"I almost thought you were Norman!" the man chuckled. "That projectionist has a really bad habit of sneaking up on people, try not to take after him for future reference." He added, scolding playfully.

"Sorry! Sorry! I'm Buddy, and I'm new here."

"Well then." He held out his hand to shake Buddy's. "Welcome to the team, Buddy! I'm Jack, the music department's lyricist."

"So you're not Sammy then?"

"Nope, if you're looking for him, he's in his office. It's across from here at the end of the hallway, you can't miss it."

"Thanks..."

Sensing Buddy's discomfort, Jack asked him something.

"Heard the rumors about him?"

"I guess?"

"Don't worry, it's just a few tall tales spun by a bunch of bored animators and musicians, that's all. The man's bark is worse than his bite."

"But I don't want to know his bark _or_ his bite."

"Well, if it makes you feel better he's got some serious tunnel vision when writing. As long as you don't make a sound you could put an elephant in the room and he wouldn't be the wiser until after it blew it's trunk."

"Thanks again, Jack."

"Happy I could help."

Halfway down the hallway he could already hear the sounds of pen on paper. They were swift and frantic and only stopped for the seconds it took to set the paper to the side and get started on a new sheet, but they were almost a song in themselves, or at least they were the steady rhythm that was the song's bones.

As he came closer, he saw the man through his office's window and it was almost comedic how he looked and felt like the polar opposite of Jack. Jack was short, Sammy looked tall. Jack was stout and soft, Sammy looked thin and wiry. Jack had short hair and a beard, Sammy looked like he had long hair and was clean-shaven. Jack was relaxed, Sammy looked determined. Jack was well-dressed, Sammy looked like he was wearing causal, ink-stained clothes. Jack was warm and friendly, Sammy looked cold and mean. Jack reminded Buddy of a teddy bear, Sammy reminded Buddy of a large bird of prey.

The music director's icy glare wasn't even directed at him but he could feel it's chill running down his spine, wishing that the door to his office wouldn't squeak, he hesitantly opened it and approached his desk, wordlessly sliding the piece of paper down on his desk.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Sammy _did_ notice this.

"Thank you, Miriam-" Before he could finish what he was about to say, he turned to face "Miriam" before Buddy could leave.

As his steely cold eyes met Buddy's terrified ones, The man's irritated expression melted into confusion.

"You're not my secretary, who the hell are you and what are you doing in my office?"

"I-I'm Buddy Mr. Sammy Lawrence, Sir. I'm the new gofer, Joey hired me yesterday."

The man's face fell back into an annoyed look, but this one was less aggressive and was instead softer and more tired. 'Whoever makes the mistake of touching me will get their body splattered all over the walls' vs. 'Goddammit, I _told_ this idiot not to buy a puppy because we can't afford to keep it and I turn by back for two seconds and now he's bought the entire box of puppies.'

"The. New. Gofer."

"Yes..."

"And Joey hired you yesterday?"

"Yes."

He slapped his forehead in frustration, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Of course he did." He said with a sigh "Of course he does this, what was *I* expecting..."

Sammy grew more animated, he continued his rant as he wore a forced smile that was a smudge away from becoming a sneer. 

"Of course he tells me that there's not enough in the budget to _get some goddamned lights on down here_ and then he hires a new gofer right behind my back, what was I excepting from Joey 'Dreams come true' Drew!" He sarcastically twinkled his fingers while saying his name before he looked like he remembered something important and leaned against his chair. "Let me make a wild guess, you're in the Art Department and your desk has the name "Henry" carved into it. Right?"

Buddy didn't know it was possible to feel both more and less creeped out before Sammy said that.

"Yes, How did you know?"

Sammy stood up again and got uncomfortably close to his face. Buddy could practically smell the coffee and something foul in his breath as he whispered into his ear in a sing-song tone.

" _Because Joey doesn't give a single Damn about you, your life, your family, your 'talent' or whatever slop you fell for so he could drag you in this dump. Do you really think you're the first one he brought here? He just wants a new replacement goldfish to fill in for the old one, he likes them young, you know, someone naive, someone fresh, someone he can mold like clay into a perfect little yes man... If I were you... I'd run while I still could..._ "

He tore himself away from Buddy as if nothing had happened.

"According to the notice you brought me, Abby Lambert sent you down because she wanted the new songs, right?" He asked while picking up a large stack of papers. "Well I finished them if you'd be so kind as to bring them up to her." He put the heavy stack into Buddy's arms. "Watch out for untrustworthy pipes, if I find out these stupid songs are ruined for the third time this week and I have to rewrite them all _again_ because of the ink, then somebody is a dead man walking."

"Y-yes sir, I-I understand."

"Oh and before you go..."

"..."

"When you get back up there," he smirked as if there was a terrible prank going around, and he was in on it. "Could you remind Jacob that he needs to meet me in my office on Monday? That would be _great_ , thanks."

"Why do you need him?"

His smirk grew bigger, "Souls don't collect themselves, Buddy."

Buddy shuddered as he turned to leave Sammy's office.

Logically, it could've been more dark humor like Norman telling him that Joey died. It was possible that Sammy knew about his 'reputation' and had let himself in on the 'joke', but Buddy couldn't get to the elevator fast enough. He didn't know if Jacob's rumor was true or not, but Sammy Lawrence did seem like the most likely person to be a serial killer in the studio. He hoped that he either wouldn't have to visit the music department often, or that he could deal with Jack instead of Sammy in the future.


End file.
